The Thing About One-Night Stands

Thanks to tari_sue for betaing this for me!

***


“Good morning my sweet little Harry.”

Coldness.

“Wake up love.”

Pain.

“Dear one, it’s time to open your eyes.”

Harry groaned. Even that small vocalization made tears prickle in the back of his eyes as it felt like someone had hit his temple with a brick. Throbbing, splitting pain shot through his head and down his spinal cord.

A brief image of Draco’s smiling face flashed in his mind.

“Good,” a deep voice purred close by. “Finally coming to.”

Cold dread settled in the pit of Harry’s stomach. He recognized that voice, dark and twisted, but undeniably Brandon’s. Memories of being attacked last night rolled through his mind, hazy around the edges.

Slowly, despite the agony of the sharp light piercing his head, Harry opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. Without his glasses his vision was blurry, but the first thing he noted was the chair he was strapped into. The second was the hardwood floors and couch that sat across from him. A living room?

Brandon’s face came into focus as he neared Harry. The same twisted darkness as before was dancing in his eyes and a toothy smile stretched across his face.

“Morning,” he said, then tisked as he reached a hand out. Harry winced when he felt fingers probe his sore temple, another wave of pain making its way down his spine. “You hit that rock pretty hard.”

A grogginess was trying to envelope Harry, despite the way his heart pounded madly and his breath came in short, fast intakes. He forced his mind to stay alert, fully aware he might have a concussion and going to sleep wasn’t the best idea at the moment.

“I’d heal your head, but I don’t think you’ve earned that quite yet.”

Harry remained quiet, controlling his panic and taking note of the limited movement he had in his bindings. His arms were strapped tightly, but he had a little room to flex his legs up. He knew his wand must have been stripped from him, but he might be able to physically overpower his captor if he got free of his bonds.

Brandon disappeared behind him and Harry shivered, trying to strain his neck to look in spite of the pain it caused. There was a window in the wall to his left, red curtains drawn but a small ray of light breaking through at their seam. He had been placed in the corner, thick ropes strapping his arms, torso, and legs to a wooden chair.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Brandon whispered in his ear and Harry jerked his head to face him. “But this has nothing to do with you being Harry Potter. I couldn’t care less. What I do care about is when people try to take what’s mine. You need to learn your place.”

“Wha-”

“Crucio!”

White, hot pain sparked through Harry like a bolt of lightning. His bones turned to liquid fire, eyes rolled madly. A scream tore out of his throat and everything around him narrowed into only the sensation of agonizing pain.

After what felt like an eternity of misery, it ended.

When the strength to open his eyes returned, Harry saw that Brandon’s face was red and splotchy, a large vein throbbing on his forehead and spit flying from his mouth as he yelled, “You hardly ever fucking looked at me! But the moment he came into sight you looked at him with awe!”

“Brandon…” Harry tried to say, but his voice was hoarse and breathless, the name broken.

“Shh,” his capture cooed, seemingly calming down at once as the color drained from his face. He gave Harry one of his charming smiles, eyes just a bit too wide and darkened by madness. His hand cupped Harry’s cheek awkwardly, spread like an open fist as he dragged his nails sharply down Harry’s face. The awakened nerve endings sent signals of pain to Harry’s brain, greater in degree from the recent Cruciatus curse, but he refused to flinch.

“You’re not like the others, are you?”

“Oth…others?” Harry panted.

“Yes,” Brandon squeezed his chin and tilted it up. “They were horrible. Now, Harry, you have a lot to make up to me. But I’m a forgiving person, you can win my affections again.”

A bell chimed in the distance.

“Oh my. Teatime, isn’t it?” A table was conjured, complete with a steaming pot, two white porcelain teacups, and a milk jug. “How do you like your tea? See, I don’t know, because we’ve never had tea before. And whose fault is that, hmm?”

Brandon poured the hot, brown liquid into both cups and added a heavy amount of milk to one. “I like mine strong with milk. Sometimes with sugar, but I’m not in a very sweet mood today.”

Harry kept his mouth shut, fighting the blackness that ebbed at his vision. He had to do something, but his thoughts were muddy and tired. Thinking clearly was like trying to see something through a fogged up window.

“I’m not stupid!” Brandon suddenly yelled, and Harry found scalding hot liquid at his lips, dripping down his chin and falling onto his thighs. He could feel the skin where the tea touched already starting to blister over, and yet he still hid his reaction to the pain.

“I bet he knows how you like your tea,” Brandon shouted, slamming the cup down in front of Harry’s helpless form with a clack. “I found out about you two. Did you think I wouldn’t? Well?!”

Harry remained silent, dread forming in his stomach.

Draco.

“Answer me!”

As Harry saw it, in his current weakened state he had no power to fight. Which only left him one reasonable option – go along with Brandon’s madness until an opportunity presented itself. After all, Harry had faced, and survived, much worse in the past.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, casting his eyes down as if in shame. “It was a mistake. You deserved better.”

To his sick relief, Brandon smiled toothily at him.

“There now, what a good boy! Was that so hard to admit?”

Harry kept his head down.

“Now then. Milk?”

Trying not to wince at the thought of more scalding heat on his face, Harry nodded.

“Good boy,” Brandon said, petting his head as he poured an absurd amount of milk into the half-empty teacup. When he lifted it Harry automatically parted his lips, the liquid significantly cooled by the milk as it made its way into his mouth. It stung to have some spill onto the burned skin of his chin, but as always he ignored the pain.

“Nice?”

Harry glared at him. He recognized his mistake too late as he was once again flashed a toothy smile. The table and its contents disappeared.

“Do you remember the story about my cat, Harry? Do you?”

Harry racked his hazy brain. “The cat that ran away?”

“He was mine,” Brandon said. “But he left me and I had to take care of him.”

Harry looked up, furrowing his brows and narrowing his eyes.

“Pectus Pectorisprehendo,” Brandon spoke in a singsong voice as he swished his wand around. The moment the violet colored spell hit, Harry crumpled in on himself. Pain. He could feel his heart quivering, like there was a boulder on his chest. His lungs felt as if they had turned to steal, his gasps for air were useless.

“Hurts, I know,” Brandon said in a mocking tone. “The spell stops your heart. Without a heartbeat, Harry, there’s no more oxygen to the body.”

The black border around Harry’s vision grew thicker. A dizziness caused him to sway to the side, only keeping upright because of his bonds to the chair.

“The brain can go about four to six minutes without oxygen before the irreversible damage starts. The cells begin to die in multitudes and eventually you’ll become brain-dead.”

A flick of the wrist and Harry found his heart once again beating, painfully hard, but beating all the same. He took in a few gasping breaths, ebbing away the darkness surrounding his eyes.

“You can see now, Harry, why I don’t want that to be your fate. So you really must try a little harder to get back into my good graces.”

Still painting, Harry nodded and fought the stinging in the back of his eyes. There was nothing more frustrating than being helpless.

“There we go,” Brandon soothed. “I know, let’s watch a movie. I can sit on your lap and hold you. Sound good?”

Harry bit is tongue hard until he tasted the mineral flavor of blood fill his mouth. The last thing he wanted was Brandon’s fucking arms all over him. He nodded.

“You don’t seem too hap-”

Brandon froze. Footsteps thudded somewhere in the distance. Before Harry could so much think of opening his mouth and calling for help, he was silenced.

“Petrificus Totalus,” Brandon whispered and Harry again wanted to cry in frustration as his whole body went stiff as a statue. He fucking hated this spell. A few seconds later Brandon tapped his head smartly with the tip of a wand, and Harry felt the gooey sensation of having an egg cracked onto his head. The disillusionment charm.

Three quick, but very loud, knocks came from the front door. Brandon, who couldn’t quite look into Harry’s eyes since he was virtually invisible now, glared in warning before heading over to unlock it.

“Oh, hello!” he said cheerfully. “I wasn’t expecting you, please come in.”

Even though Harry’s eyes were blurred without his glasses, he could distinguish the girl who was revealed when the door swung open. Bushy brown hair, incredibly straight posture, and Crookshanks in her arms. Hermione.

She hesitated for a moment, leaving the door wide open as Brandon stepped back and gave, what Harry guessed through the blurriness of his vision, a quizzical look.

“I-I’m sorry if I’m inconveniencing you,” she said shyly.

“Of course not. Please do come in.” His voice was sickeningly sweet as he ushered her in and shut the door. “Would you care for some tea? I just finished a cup myself.”

“No thanks,” Hermione said politely. Brandon ushered her over to the couch and sat close to her. Harry watched as she petted Crookshanks in distress, pressing a little too firmly while stroking his back. He could tell the cat was annoyed as it glanced at her through silted eyes, but she seemed too lost in her thoughts to notice.

“I…” she said weakly. “This is so embarrassing. But I- well that is- last night- or um. Well.”

Brandon’s sickeningly sweet laugh echoed around the room and Harry felt bile burning his throat. He was sure if his body could move better, he would have retched. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you so flushed, Hermione. Go on then, what’s this all about?”

She let out a nervous giggle and released her grip on Crookshanks, who spent no time in leaping away from her mauling hands. “Well Ron and I went over to Harry’s this morning…”

“Uh huh…”

“He’s not there. And um, there’s no evidence that he’s been there since last night.”

Crookshanks strutted around the room haughtily, his whiskers flicking with his curiously sniffing nose. Harry was momentarily distracted as the cat setting not an inch from his left foot, crawling into a ball and swishing his tail lazily.

“Well- that is…” Hermione said, the most flustered he had ever seen her. “He’s not here? Or- um- did you. Sleeptogetherlastnight?”

“Nosy, aren’t we?” Brandon laughed, then took on a serious face. “But that is a bit worrisome that he hasn’t been home. He didn’t spend the night here. We parted… well it was a late evening, if you catch my drift.”

Harry could have sworn he heard a growl, but when he moved his eyes – the only thing he could move at the moment – Crookshanks was still curled up comfortably.

“Oh,” Hermione said. “Do you have any idea where he might have gone? It’s just- well. I worry, you know.”

“Hmm. Has he been acting strange at all lately? Perhaps he’s just decided to get some time away. Everyone needs a holiday sometime.”

“Maybe…”

“Not to sound conceited or anything, but I must say Harry really seemed to have taken a liking to me. We had a great time last night, and if I’m not mistaken, he’ll be seeking me out in the future. I’m sure of it. So don’t worry so much, Hermione. I’m sure he’ll come back in his own time.”

Sitting there, silently fuming with the ability to only do one thing – roll his disillusioned eyes, which honestly wasn’t very gratifying – Harry felt the most peculiar thing.

A brush of invisible fabric.

Even through the haziness of his mind, he understood everything in an instant: Hermione’s weird behavior, having the door left open so long upon her arrival, why Crookshanks had settled at his feet. Ron was under the invisibility cloak and they had staged a rescue. Somehow they had known.

He felt a firmness pressing through invisible fabric, dragging up his arm searchingly, over his neck and then feeling around his face. There was a barely audible sigh, sounding the epitome of relieved, followed by a comforting squeeze to his shoulder. Even stranger, he heard something like a small slap. His eyes darted over to Brandon and Hermione, but they were chatting enthusiastically.

As if it couldn’t get any stranger than that, Harry felt the hands on him again, more desperately searching out his face and cupping it tenderly. He felt something soft press against his hair, like someone was kissing the top of his head. What the hell was Ron doing?

“That’s an interesting cat you have,” Brandon was saying, seemingly just now realizing how close it was to Harry. “She’s trained not to jump on the furniture, I hope.”

“He,” Hermione corrected quietly. “Crookshanks, come here.”

The only movement was a lazy flick of his tail.

“Here, I said.”

Crookshanks opened one drowsy eye halfway, then turned his head away. Harry half hoped the cat would jump into his lap, if only to see the panicked look in Brandon’s eyes when it hovered a foot above touching the actual chair.

“I’ll get him,” Hermione said, a sigh escaping her lips. As she stood to walk up, instead of actually turning her back on him, she walked sideways, making it look as if she were putting on a show of exasperation. She always was a smart girl.

“There, there, Crookshanks, what’s with you?” she said affectionately.

Harry worried when she walked around, settling behind the chair and hopped Ron would be smart enough not to let her accidentally bump him. He thought he heard whispered words, or rather a fragment of a whisper, only the soft puff of a ‘p’ or the tick of a ‘t’. Not able to see behind him, he kept his eyes focused on Brandon, watching him tense slightly.

It happened faster than Harry could track: Crookshanks was darting off, Brandon was on his feet, a flash of red bursting from his wand, bouncing off Hermione’s protection shield at the last moment. At the same time an invisible tap was ushered to his head and Harry found himself visible and no longer frozen, although he was still physically bound.

A second later the fabric of the invisibility cloak flickered as it revealed a mess of red hair and – Harry’s heart skipped a beat – another mess of blond. It hadn’t just been Ron under the invisibility cloak. Draco stood there, cheeks flushed and lips snarling, looking every bit of a wrathful angel.

Draco.

“You!” Brandon growled, throwing out a stream of hexes. Even though it was three against one, Hermione, Ron and Draco alternated throwing up defensive charms, doing their best to not only deflect but protect Harry as well. He jerked in his bindings, heart pounding wildly and pulsing adrenaline through his veins, but he couldn’t escape the chair. He had no choice but to watch helplessly as the three faced the maniac.

Ron was the first to shoot off an offensive spell, missing just barely and leaving a deep gouge in the floor next to Brandon’s feet. The rescuers’ rhythm of defensive spells was broken and Hermione, in mid-curse, had to jump aside to avoid a bolt of yellow crackling of magic. Draco didn’t dare seem to cast anything but spells that protected Harry, making his way around the chair until he stood directly in front of him. Harry’s ears erupted in the sound of buzzing.

From around Draco’s lithe body, he could see Ron’s slicing hex miss just barely, shallowly cutting into Brandon’s chest as he turned aside to avoid it. Blood poured steadily out, staining his shirt crimson instantly. With an enraged growl he turned to face them, a burst of fire erupting from his wand. Hermione’s protego was half erected when it blazed past her, catching the hem of her skirt on fire.

“Hermione!” Harry and Ron yelled in sync. Harry watched as his red-haired friend ran to help her expel the fire. Just as Hermione was casting an aguamenti spell to douse the flames, Ron was hit with a stunner, falling heavily in a tangle of limbs.

Hermione screamed. Her face becoming as red as blood as her eyes became dark with fury. She threw out three rapid spells all at once: incarcerous, confringo, duro. Brandon leaped a good distance, but the Confringo hit the couch, exploding it in splintery debris. A shard of wood imbedded itself in Brandon, who hastily shot an easily avoided curse at Hermione before spelling it out of his shoulder.

“Serpensortia!” Draco shouted, conjuring four deadly adders.

“Oppugno,” Hermione added, sending the snakes off to attack, their bodies slithering menacingly. When Brandon’s wand turned down to banish them Draco took the opportunity to spell away Harry’s ropes as Hermione ran to Ron.

It was in between banishing the third and fourth adder that Brandon slipped out a stunning curse, so quickly cast that no one saw until it hit Hermione. She fell to the floor in mid step with a sickening thump.

“Hermione!” Harry yelled, standing quickly, but falling back immediately. He hadn’t expected to feel so week and dizzy. Draco stayed in front of him, panting as he held his wand steadily towards an equally exhausted looking Brandon.

The buzzing in Harry’s ears and the blackness around his sight grew greater by the second. He knew he was week and useless without a way to fight. If he tried to go for one of Hermione or Ron’s wands, he would make it much harder for Draco to protect him, but how could he just sit there and do nothing? Summoning up all the strength he had left in his body, letting his emotions of hate towards Brandon and love towards Hermione, Ron and Draco bleed into his will, he rose once again.

About halfway to his feet, he realized it was a mistake; he started sagging forward.

“Crucio,” Draco yelled and not a second later Brandon’s blood curdling screams filled the air. Draco took the opportunity to cast a revival spell at Hermione.

Harry’s legs felt as if they had been replaced with jelly and he weekly fell against Draco’s back, trying desperately not to take the blond down with him as his body tipped.

Brandon’s screams fell silent. Hermione moaned in the distance.

Harry and Draco dropped forward, the blond twisting in mid-fall to try and catch Harry in his arms. Harry’s already damaged head cracked nastily against the hardwood floor and his vision went momentarily black.

“Pectus Pectorisprehendo!”

The spell seemed to travel in slow motion. He was pulled closer to Draco, his grip tightening protectively as his body shielded him from danger. Cold dread swept through his chest as Harry lay helpless in strong, warm arms. An eternity of fear passed in the split second that it took for the violet color to race across the room towards Draco’s back.

He wanted to cry from the unfairness of it all. More than ever, he wanted to tell Draco how much he loved him.

Crackling, sizzling, buzzing, an orchestra of noise rose as an arc of light shot out. Like being caged in a dome of lightning, hissing and blinding as it swirled around them.

Confusion fought with the exhaustion of Harry’s body. As he slipped into the darkness of unconsciousness, he heard a distressed voice calling his name.


***



TBC

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

avihenda, celestialuna, and hachan Sorry for the cliff hanger, hope I didn’t make you wait too long. XD

Takumi Fujiwara It’s always the quiet ones... thanks :)

DiscoLemonade *Grins* Hero Draco to the rescue?

RRW *nods* that we do.

Jilliane Maybe Hermione redeamed herself a little in this chapter? Or maybe not. XD
And Sara’s original role was to throw people off, so yay for that! :)

ZooArmy Yay for the Brandon violence! There should be kicking of the family jewels, that isn’t used enough in stories...

Roozette I know, the irony and the drama. *nods* Ooh, we’ll just have to see what happends next...
Thanks! And don’t let my grammar skills deceive you, I’m nothing without a beta. XD

And thanks to Butterflyy, thrnbrooke, Caldonya, and foxyval!

Also thank you to whoever was (were?) Anon , is that name a glitch in the system? I got it once when reviewing someone’s story. O_o